Chapter 603: Chapter-603
The generals didn’t care about court etiquette. They looked at her with eyes full of absolute, unrestrained glee.
"Gods above, Marquis!" one of the generals barked with a massive, toothy grin. "What a granddaughter you have! I have lived fifty years and I have never seen that arrogant Prime Minister on his knees like a weeping dog!"
Heena smiled faintly, perfectly maintaining her polite junior facade. "It is all thanks to the prestige of you elders supporting me."
"Oh, come on!" another general laughed loudly, waving his heavily calloused hand dismissively. "We aren’t a bunch of foolish, poetry-reciting scholars! You don’t need to flatter us with that nonsense!"
The general leaned in, looking Heena up and down like he had just discovered a literal gold mine. "Tell me, lass. You’ve heard of godmothers and godfathers... but how would you feel about having a god-grandfather?"
Heena blinked, momentarily thrown off. "A... god-grandfather?"
The surrounding generals burst into uproarious laughter, turning to look at the bristling old Marquis.
"Come on, old man!" the first general teased mercilessly. "You have to give this granddaughter to us! You clearly cannot handle her all on your own. And judging by that absolute masterpiece of a trap she just pulled in there, we can confidently say she absolutely did not get her brains from you!"
The old Vanguard Marquis reacted like a drop of water hitting a boiling iron pan.
"You shameless bandits!" the Marquis roared, his face turning bright red as he stepped aggressively in front of Heena, shielding her from his own comrades. "You dare try to think about stealing my granddaughter right in front of my face?!"
"We’re just sharing the wealth!" they cackled.
"How about this?!" the Marquis barked, pointing a thick, weathered finger at the laughing men. "The next time I throw you lot onto the battlefield and you end up needing my help, I’ll just adopt all of you as my grandsons! How about that?!"
"Oh, calm down, you old bear," the oldest general chuckled, clapping the Marquis hard on the shoulder armor. "We are just joking."
"I am not joking!" the Marquis bellowed, his voice echoing across the entire palace courtyard. He glared at the grinning generals, looking entirely ready to draw his broadsword right there on the steps. "If any of you old bastards dare to touch my granddaughter, or even try to claim her, I will personally tie every single one of you to the back of a warhorse! Let’s see if the horse runs faster or your damn legs!"
The tension on the white jade steps entirely dissolved. The group of battle-hardened veterans burst into a chorus of booming, unrestrained laughter. It wasn’t every day you saw the legendary, stoic Vanguard Marquis laughing out loud and threatening to drag his own brothers-in-arms behind a horse with such a massive, genuine smile on his face.
Heena stood quietly in the center of the chaotic group, a faint, genuine warmth blossoming in her chest as she watched them bicker.
Suddenly, the laughter dialed back slightly.
Walking down the adjacent path from the Great Hall was a tight-knit cluster of civil officials. These were the very same scholars who usually walked with their noses pointed at the clouds, the ones who spent their days composing poetry and looking down on the military class.
But today, it was a completely different sight.
As they passed the Vanguard generals, the scholars instinctively hunched their shoulders. They refused to make eye contact, keeping their heads lowered and their gazes glued to the cobblestones as they practically scurried past the laughing military men.
One of the older generals stopped laughing. He watched the retreating backs of the civil officials, a dark, victorious scoff escaping his lips.
"Ha," the general spat, shaking his head. "Look at those bastards. They spend their entire lives reading poetry and spouting absolute nonsense, always calling us uneducated, uncivilized brutes. They sit in their comfortable estates and never understand the blood and sacrifice we spill at the borders to keep them safe. They are always trying to undermine us."
The general crossed his massive, heavily scarred arms over his chest, a fierce grin returning to his face. "Well, look who is looking down at the dirt now."
The general turned his gaze back to Heena. The boisterous, teasing energy entirely faded from his weathered face, replaced by the grave, heavy solemnity of a true battlefield commander.
"Listen to me, kid," the general said, his voice dropping into a low, serious rumble. "What you did in there today... it was an absolute masterpiece. We loved every second of it. You did the exact right thing to protect this family."
He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers with intense sincerity. "But, as your ’grandpa,’ I am telling you this: be careful. You just painted a massive target on your back."
Heena paused. She looked at the circle of towering, scarred veterans surrounding her. They were the apex predators of the empire’s military, yet they were looking at her not just as their commander’s heir, but as their own flesh and blood.
She gracefully stepped back and offered him a deep, perfectly executed bow of respect.
"I understand, Grandpa," Heena replied, her voice soft but filled with absolute conviction.
Hearing her actually call him that, the grave expression on the old general’s face completely melted. A slow, incredibly warm and gentle smile formed beneath his thick beard.
He raised his heavy, calloused hand—a hand that had swung a broadsword through thousands of enemies—and incredibly softly, he placed it on top of her head. He patted her dark hair with a surprising, fatherly tenderness.
"I might not be as politically powerful or as wealthy as your actual grandfather," the general said softly, his eyes filled with fierce, unwavering loyalty. "But if anyone in this capital ever dares to lay a single finger on you, just remember that you have an entire army of grandpas standing right behind you."
He let his hand drop, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"You are brilliant, child. You are smart, you are capable, and you absolutely do not need to hide your claws," he promised, his voice carrying the collective vow of every general standing there. "But remember that we are still here. You don’t have to carry the weight of the entire world on those shoulders. You can just be a normal child when you want to be. Let the grown-ups handle the messy, dirty work. You just keep doing exactly what you want."
The old general’s gentle words hung in the crisp morning air.
Heena completely froze.
She had heard that exact dialogue countless times before, echoing across the different worlds and lifetimes she had endured. Let the grown-ups handle it. You just be a child. It was always an empty promise. Every single time those words were spoken, they eventually faded into dust, leaving her standing entirely alone in the blood and the ash, forced to do all the dirty work and carry the weight of survival on her own shoulders.
But there was one time. Just one.
A sudden, violently vivid memory flashed in front of her eyes. It was the face of a middle-aged, fair-skinned woman. A woman who had looked at her with that exact same fierce, protective warmth. A person who had spoken those exact words to her—and had actually fought to make them true.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter